We Can't Keep Doing This
A continual tapping on her balcony door pulls Alex from her sleep. The fog of disorientation clears quickly and there's a gun in her hand even before she stealthily dismounts the bed. Her movement is agile despite the aching muscles and recent injury.
Peering cautiously out into the darkness, she perceives a darkened figure standing in the moonlight.
Her hand reaches out to flick the switch for the balcony lamp, flooding the small patio with light.
Astute brown eyes meet a familiar gray pair.
Her internal threat level diminishes, though her increased heartrate remains, no doubt loudly announcing her involuntary surge of desire to the beguiling woman waiting outside.
The weapon is returned to its hiding place as she slides open the door.
Taking this move as an invitation, the visitor steps into the room, eyes warm with amusement.
"What are you doing here?" Alex questions softly, unnecessarily.
"I needed to see you Brave one," the older woman says huskily.
"We can't keep doing this," Alex whispers with more conviction than she actually feels.
"We can't keep doing this," Astra agrees.
And then there are soft lips kissing her neck, teeth nipping lightly at sensitive skin, and the tip of a hot tongue swirling over her pulse point. And she's moaning softly, her hands instinctively twisting into brown curls, streaked with white.
She cups the nape of the older woman's neck, and tugs her head up urgently so their lips can meet in a tangle of tongues and gentle whimpers. It's feverish and impatient. Their mouths melding effortlessly into one. She feels herself sinking, drowning in the now familiar taste of this hypnotic woman.
Stepping back breathlessly, she tugs her cotton tank over her head in one practised movement, gratified by the guttural growl she receives in response. Steady hands waste no time in exploring her newly exposed torso, skilful fingertips tracing light patterns over her blazing skin. Her head swims dizzily at the contact, and her brain goes into blissful meltdown.
The touch disappears momentarily, and a sound, almost like that of Velcro being separated, purrs in the shadowed room. Then a soft naked chest is pressing hotly against hers.
Her spine tingles in response and her toes curl into the rug beneath her feet. She lets out a deep contented sigh.
"Alexandra?" the older woman whispers into her ear, before her forehead dips to rest against the agent's shoulder. The indisputable tenderness in the silky voice grounds her.
It's a request for consent.
Leaning out from the embrace, Alex's eyes gaze into hooded gray ones. Within them she sees her own hunger mirrored and multiplied. They're searching her face for an answer.
She nods emotionally.
Unable to resist the need. Regardless of the light knotting in her stomach when she recalls slain colleagues and alien warriors, or the burning hatred present in these eyes only hours before. When they stood toe to toe – on opposite sides of a battlefield.
She could no more deny herself the intimacy of this woman than she could deny her own lungs oxygen.
It is as inevitable as is it is hopeless.
A cool hand, flat against her stomach, pushes her gently backwards and she allows herself to be manoeuvred to her recently vacated bed.
Her eyes flutter closed when they collapse onto the bed and the older woman's knee presses gently into her pelvis.
There is a breathless growl from above her, and Alex knows the warrior has discovered just how much she desires her by the tell-tale dampness of her shorts. The weight atop her shifts slightly downward as Astra lays a trail of searing kisses from her shoulder down to her belly button.
The older brunette stills in her ministrations and Alex looks down to catch the intense expression on her face, shadowed in the light from the balcony. Her focus is fixed upon her own hand as the fingers trace a path over Alex's taught muscles causing them to ripple in pleasure.
There is an underlying jab of pain complimenting the movement and Alex realizes that the woman is lightly mapping out her fresh wounds.
The tickle of hair on her naked midriff causes her to sigh softly as Astra's lips take the place of her hand.
"So," kiss "fragile" kiss "and yet," kiss, "so," kiss, "brave," she murmurs, her breath warm as it ghosts over sensitive skin. "You fought well today," she says reverently.
And then the spell of intimacy breaks and the urgency is back as if it suddenly occurs to her that she should not be getting too attached. And Alex enables this switch in tempo by expertly flipping her over and straddling the older woman determinedly. Astra graciously allows this domination.
She looks down hungrily, before a hand slides under the material of her shorts causing her back to arch and her throat to moan.
An hour later and Alex is breathless and sated, Astra snuggled protectively into her side.
That's when the unescapable guilt starts to creep upon her. What they were doing was wrong on every possible level. It could cost her her career, not to mention a Federal Court Martial. It could cost her her sister's trust, Kara would never forgive this betrayal. And it would probably cost her her life, if they met on the battlefield she had no doubts the hardened warrior would strike her down, no hesitation. Yet she knew in her heart that she herself would most certainly hesitate.
"Where did you go, Brave one?" Astra says, kissing her cheek softly.
"We can't keep doing this," she says sadly.
She feels the scratch of Astra's head nodding slowly against her cheek.
Strong arms envelope her and before her tranquil body even acknowledges the feeling of being lifted from the bed, they are leaving the apartment through the open patio doors and soaring into the night sky. The blanket expertly cocooning them both, preserving both heat and modesty.
"What the…"
"I just wanted to share something with you, before I leave," Astra says.
They ascend higher and higher, until there is a marked lightness in the air.
Alex removes her face from the older woman's neck, to be greeted with a scene as enchanting as the woman whose arms are wrapped safely around her. A vast sky full of stars and the tiny twinkling of a multi-colored meteor shower passing overhead. A miniature firework display, likely invisible to anyone without an industrial telescope, or a super powered alien tour guide.
"It's beautiful," she says breathlessly.
"As are you Alexandra Danvers," Astra whispers close to her ear.
A sad smile graces her lips.
"We can't keep doing this," she chokes out.
"We can't keep doing this," Astra agrees.
The End.